


what remained of the lines in the sand

by lunaticmeap



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Bad Jokes, Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fear of Rejection, Flashbacks, Hand & Finger Kink, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Memory Loss, Secret Marriage, also youll see my asian ass trying to make my culture known, i make people squint a lot dont i?, mentions of pre-kerberos mission, squint and youll find it, squint and youll find my attempt at offhandedly talking about sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 07:31:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18278639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunaticmeap/pseuds/lunaticmeap
Summary: “The ring,” Shiro started, and Keith could see him treading over his words again. “I was just wondering whose it was... because you told me your parents never got married.”It really was too early in the morning for such a conversation. Keith was tempting fate by doing this. He could completely destroy everything they already have with his one selfish desire, yet he would risk it all for a small sliver of a chance that Shiro might remember. A more well-rested Keith would think twice about settling Shiro’s curiosity. But a worn-out Keith was tired of hiding.He swallowed his nerves and almost whispered, “Are you sure you want to know?”Shiro had forgotten more than just his time in imprisonment. And Keith struggles to hold a secret that was tearing his heart into pieces.





	what remained of the lines in the sand

**Author's Note:**

> Im not going with the canon age because simply, i find it kinda ridiculous. So Shiro would be 25 and Keith would be 20 in Pre-Kerberos in this fic, for my sanity. 
> 
> I binged this series in 3 days, you can tell I wasn't happy with season 8 because... this happened. 
> 
> Prompted by this phrase: "Have you lost your damn mind?"
> 
> I've also been influenced greatly by the art that I saw when I wrote this! Links are thrown across the fic where I was inspired, and also in the end notes!

“Have you lost your _damn_ mind!?!?”

The words made Keith wince. Not so much because of the clear frustration and authority within Shiro’s tone, but because Shiro almost _never_ swore. The last time Keith ever heard the man swear was when some reckless, idiotic cadet back at the Garrison thought it was a brilliant idea to take one of hoverbikes for a joyride and almost broke their neck crashing into a warehouse.

But Shiro was swearing now, and _mad_ seemed like an understatement to describe the expression on his face. Keith was pretty sure the only reason why he wasn’t receiving a hard reprimand was because of Coran’s presence in the room to tend to his broken arm and dislocated shoulder. Shiro did always respect Coran’s distaste for shouting.

“What exactly were you thinking?” Shiro spoke firmly, and Keith wouldn’t have felt so afraid if it weren’t for the fact that the man was almost glaring at him. Any words died on his tongue and he could only stare downwards, guilt ridden. He suddenly felt like he was standing in Iverson’s office as a first year cadet all over again, but worse.

Around him, everyone else was silent too, except for Coran who was still shuffling around to find braces for Keith’s arm. Admittedly, he really brought this upon himself when he disregarded the Black Paladin’s orders.

They had been on another one of the Galra-colonised planets, and thing have taken a very sour turn when Pidge, him and Shiro were trapped in the unstable powerplant that was under heavy fire by Galra ships. Whilst it would have been safer to wait for backup, there was also the risk that the next round of fire from the Galra would finally blow up the structure above their heads. And so Keith took the nosedive straight into the enemy’s line of fire for the slim chance of reaching his lion and getting them out of there.

In hindsight, he should have noticed the number heavily armed number of Galra soldiers that had jumped from the trees. But when time was of the essence, there were many things that Keith could have forgotten.

He was pinned down with arms behind his back before he realised. But if there was one thing that Keith knew, it was that his determination was stronger than any force the Galra could use to hold him back. He twisted his arms, then, in such an angle that he could distinctly hear the crack and burning pain in his left shoulder when his arm popped from its socket. He gritted his teeth through a strangled cry.

Shiro called his name through the comms and the sound of blasters could be heard through the speakers of his helmet. “Hang on!”

Behind him, the Galra was losing grip of his wrists, and it gave Keith the exact opportunity to swing his leg backwards right into the groin of the soldier. There was a groan, but he was finally free. Immediately, he turned around and landed another hard kick straight into the Galra’s stomach and sent them into the bush nearby.

The throbbing pain in his shoulder was prominent with the first swing of his arm, but he was running towards the Red Lion once more. It made him sloppy, and another body hurled itself into him. His left side slammed into a tree trunk.

The impact sent his the ball of his joint back into the socket, but jammed his forearm into the rough wood, and his head bounced off the trunk. The combined pain was searing up his arm as he let out another involuntary, painful yelp.

“Keith! Are you alright?” he heard Pidge shouting into the comms.

The edge of his vision was dancing with dark spots, but he could see well enough to dodge the punch aimed at his head. It might have been worse without his helmet.

The robotic sentry’s fist was stuck into the trunk, and Keith took the chance to slip around it. He called for his bayard and willed it to a sword, and with a victorious cry, he slashed at the sentry, effectively cutting it in half.

More sentries were approaching, and Keith had a sinking feeling in his stomach telling him that he might have rushed into this battle unprepared for the sheer number of guards they had. He breathed heavily, shifting into a battle-ready stance and summoned his shield. “Air support, how are we doing?”

“You need to leave the power plant. We can’t defend both you and the the structure at the same time,” Lance called. A muffled screech could be heard through both Keith’s helmet and loudly from above where he ran his lion’s blade across one of the ships.

“Keith already left!” Pidge’s frantic voice piped into Keith’s ear. A collective shout of disbelief hit him.

“Get Shiro and Pidge to their lions! I’m already close enough to mine,” he shouted. The robots were cornering him in.

“Close enough? How close is _enough_?” Lance screamed. Keith could almost laugh to imagine Lance’s horrified face, but the sight before him was making it hard to do so. The Red Lion was only a mere 200 metres in front of him.

“I’ll be fine. Just get to them, Lance!”

At least, he hoped he would be.

“I got visual of you, Shiro,” Hunk said.

There were far too many sentries for his crippled state at the moment. And he wasn’t particularly skillful with his uninjured left arm either. But they needed more lions in the air to wind this battle, and Keith wasn’t about to risk Pidge’s and Shiro’s chance when they had such limited time. He had to get out of here by himself. _Stupidly altruistic_ would be perfect to describe him at the moment.

As if hearing his distress, a roar ripped through the air from where the Red Lion’s eyes blazed to life, and Keith has been more grateful for Altean sentient technology. Getting up on her hind, she jumped right atop the line of enemies standing in front of him. With a swipe of her paw, the sentries fell into the trees, and Keith finally reached his seat in the cockpit.

Post-battle, Shiro had stormed in from the hangar last. Keith was already exhausted atop the table in the medical wing, but the least he could do was to stay awake enough for his arm to be wrapped and head to he healing pod on his own accord. Casualties were low on their side, but Shiro made it seem as if they’ve already lost the entire planet to an ion cannon blasting through its core.

“I’m sorry,” Keith blurted, not expecting forgiveness. If there’s one thing he’s ever learned from the misfortunes in his life, it was that life was rarely forgiving of whatever he did.

“I was stupid, and I placed everyone in a precarious position. I-I’m sorry.”

Looking up again, he wasn’t sure what was worse: the level of anger and disappointment that remained unchanged in Shiro’s crossed arm and tense stance, or the pitying look that everyone gave him. Dread and guilt drove itself onto Keith’s conscience as he lowered his head again.

Shiro wasn’t resentful by nature, but he was a talented pilot that was wise beyond his years that has earned his place as their leader. And Keith? Keith had his impatience to answer his failure. 

He sucked in a harsh breath when Coran finally set his arm into the brace and sling. His eyes stung slightly, and he wasn’t sure if it were because of the pain in his arm, or the despairing thought that Shiro held as much respect for him now as he did to a robotic Galra sentry. The later thought made him want to take Shiro’s shoulders and make every plea he knew.

Keith had thought of it as a finite resource - something precious that would eventually expire just as his place did at the Garrison. And he longed to reach his hand out for what comfort and affection that Shiro would normally have given him on his worse days. But where he had previously believed his time with Shiro to have ended after the Kerberos crew were announced dead, he now thought this might be the day he finally drained the last bits of Shiro’s patience.

Sensing the imminent tension that was going to drag, Allura delicately placed a hand on the Shiro’s shoulder, “Maybe we should discuss today’s events after everyone has time to rest and recuperate.”

Footsteps indicated Shiro approaching him, and Keith shut his eyes, prepared for the oncoming assault of words. But they halted, and the next shuffle of noises of the door sliding open and close told him enough. Again, he questioned whether it would sting more to face this anger head on, or the cold burn of Shiro’s avoidance.

The tension in the room seemed to dissipate with Shiro’s leave as everyone breathed out a heavy sigh. But the tap of boots against granite tiles still echoed in at the back of Keith’s mind, and a lump threatens to rise in his throat. It reminded him of the steps to the in the hallway as a figure faded from his sight.

No matter where he was, the sound of footsteps leaving would haunt him. It echoed Shiro’s departure in his ears, bouncing across his mind until all he could feel was bitter sorrow burning his insides.

 

&&&

 

 

A night in the healing pod did wonders to his arm - what would have taken weeks and months to fully heal was instantaneous thanks to the wonders of Altean technology - though it did nothing to make him forget the mess he was when Pidge accompanied him to one of the healing pods.

Giving him a hand into the pod, she gave him a smile that seemed to promise him that things will work out for the best. He tried to return it, but he wasn’t sure if he had cracked her a smile, or a sad attempt at a smile-turned-cringe. She hadn’t said a word, but she gave him some peace in mind when he slept, and for that he was grateful.

The first thing he expected to see when he woke up wasn’t Shiro, and he didn’t think he had the capacity to even look at him yet without feeling the guilt roll through his stomach again. But bless the universe for fucking him up in every way possible, because Shiro was standing there as Keith’s pod slid open. Shiro, who was so furious yesterday, looked defeated and sleep deprived in his slacks and cotton shirt.

Keith opened his mouth. He wanted to say or do something - anything. A surprised hello, another apology, a reach for Shiro’s embrace, anything to at least deviate them from the discriminated topic for a while because he didn’t want his very first conversation after a long sleep to be one that would inevitably make him want to go back into another nap.

He made a tentative first step out of the pod before Shiro finally reached forward to take his arm and help him out. He murmured a silent thanks. They situated themselves down on the steps in front of the pods whilst Keith sucked on a packet of water to quench his thirst (and to avoid talking too, but Shiro didn’t have to know that).

Shiro’s hand remained in his palms even after. He was quiet too. They were both at a lost for words, it seemed. They might be able to just make it to breakfast without speaking if they both tried hard enough.

“Keith…” he was getting the feeling that Shiro wasn’t trying at all.

“Hmm?” Keith tried to be nonchalant. He hadn’t cared about what others have thought of him before. Not those people at the orphanage, not the kids in school, not the cadets in the Garrison that spoke shit about him in the cafeteria as if he was deaf.

He wanted to pretend he cared less about what Shiro’s judgement of him than he did, as if this was another one of their day to day conversations that floated gently on their mutual affections, and not the source of Keith’s turmoil. But the fact is that he cared too much about what Shiro had to say.

Something must have shown on his face because Shiro’s brows scrunched, as if picking over a number of euphemisms to spare Keith sharp cuts from his blunt words.

“I’m sorry for lashing out at you yesterday.”

“Don’t be. I deserved it.”

“No. No you don’t.” Shiro sighed as if dejected. The eye bags under his eyes were slightly more prominent than usual, and Keith wanted to send him back to sleep so both of them can get a much need break.

“You were right for running for your lion. Had we been inside or anywhere near the plant any longer, me and Pidge would probably have needed the the healing pod more than you.”

The power plant exploded mere minutes after Keith took off with his lion. Whether or not it really proved that he was right is another thing they needed to analyse. He wasn’t seeing the point Shiro was making. “I disobeyed orders.”

“For good reasons.”

Keith amusingly huffed, “Debatable.”

“Regardless, you did good out there. Though I wished you hadn’t had to do that.”

He tempted at half laugh, “Did I scare you?”

“I was terrified! Please don’t ever do that again.” Shiro returned his laugh with a chuckle that ended a bit too quickly to be mirthful. His gaze was distant and contemplative.

“Sorry.”

“I know I might have come across as a bit… aloof, to you especially, because I don’t remember exactly how we were. But I… I really was terrified when you ran off by yourself. I don’t know what I would have done if things were a lot worse than what had happened.” He squeezed Keith’s palm slightly and looked almost remorseful, as if the thought had gutted him physically like a spear through his insides.

“I’m glad you’re okay.”

This moment reminded Keith of their many midnight adventures in the desert more than he would dare to admit. Since admitting it meant asking Shiro for the comfort they had in their life back on Earth, for the innocence to return to Shiro’s eyes as they sparkled under the starlit sky, just as bright and daring as his dreams and ambitions. And for Shiro to possess the intimacy that they had once had in their relationship back then.

But now, Keith always had half a mind to keep enough distance between himself and everyone, just to guard his heart enough to move on in the worse case scenario. He didn’t want another repeat of Kerberos. He couldn’t handle another Kerberos-esque incident, not after Shiro had woken up without remembering everything that they shared between the earth and sky back home.

Keith’s hand twitched to his neck, reaching for a chain that was usually fastened there. He grasped nothing, and his heart lurched in his chest.

Sensing his confusion Shiro asked, “What are you-?”

“It’s nothing.” He rubbed his neck.

“Oh! Pidge told me to give this to you.” Shiro pulled a chain from his pockets and hung it in front of him. Sparkling under the white light of the castle, the ball chain swung slightly back and forth, and a simple yellow wedding band hung alongside the keys to Keith’s home in the desert, and hoverbike.

Keith left it for a moment, and searched for any traces of surprised recognition of the chain in the other man’s features. But there were none, and Shiro only placed it carefully onto Keith’s outstretched hand.

“Can I ask a question?” Shiro prompted. Keith’s heart pounded as he nodded and pulled the chain over his head. He dared to hope for a flicker of a moment.

"The ring,” Shiro started, and Keith could see him treading over his words again. “I was just wondering whose it was... because you told me your parents never got married.”

It really was too early in the morning for such a conversation. Keith was tempting fate by doing this. He could completely destroy everything they already have with his one selfish desire, yet he would risk it all for a small sliver of a chance that Shiro might remember. A more well-rested Keith would think twice about settling Shiro’s curiosity. But a worn-out Keith was tired of hiding.

He swallowed his nerves and almost whispered, “Are you sure you want to know?”

The man raised an eyebrow, oblivious to the weight of Keith’s words and the implications the ring held, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. It’s not my busin-”

“It’s mine.”

Shiro was confused, that much was clear from his gaping mouth and wide eyes. “You’re married?”

Keith could only duly nod.

“Wow… I-” Shiro had let go of his hand now, as if burned by his touch. In retrospect, Keith would have reacted similarly if Shiro had announced his marriage to an unknown to the person that he was dating. The next words seemed incredulous and if not a bit disappointed, “I hadn’t known. Who’s the lucky person?”

Keith has had thoughts about this before, how this specific conversation would play out. He imagined it them to be closer, perhaps sitting on proper tables and wearing proper socks so he wouldn’t have cold feet. And they both would be prepared for what they knew were a delicate subject for both.

Despite all that, here they were, sitting on the tiled floor, one of them without socks, and Keith really should have thought this through, just as he should have with the last battle. But he was spontaneous like that, and Shiro used to smile at it. He wondered if Shiro would smile at this spontaneity now with his white tufts of hair and prosthetic arm and only a vague recollection of the months before Kerberos.

 _Maybe. Please._ He wondered who he was pleading to.

“You,” he said.

“Pardon?”

Keith’s hand fiddled with the chain to distract himself from the agonizing wound that had never healed; the hastily stapled up one, left bleeding, and aching through his soul. Shiro’s sudden return had ripped every bandage he ever placed. Now, what was laid out before him was still his broken heart, raw and pained as the day the Kerberos mission was deemed a failure.

“You. This...” he held the ring up close to his lips, and his words were but whispers in the great silence of the room, “It was from you.”

“What do you mean?”

 

 

_“A toast!” Matt raised his mediocre half shot of vodka that he poured for himself because ‘I have two brain cells left for Kerberos and I’d rather not destroy both with alcohol.’ That isn’t to say that he wasn’t already drunk from the four and a half bottles of cola mixed beer._

_“For the happy couple that really should have made their love declarations a lot sooner than now, but_ _oh well!_ _You’re both unconventional in every sense, anyways. And I’m so happy you_ _finally_ _got your shit together.”_

_“I’ll toast to that,” Keith held his full shot of soju to clink against Matt’s and Shiro’s, and downed it in one gulp. The alcohol burned down his throat, and his was heating up again though not from the sunset and blazing kiss that he had shared with Shiro only a few hours prior with their rings glinting in the light. It was from the press of Shiro’s body against his arm, his presence,... and maybe also the alcohol._

_He was tipsy - all three of them were, by that point - and Shiro was wearing a grin so bright it almost made Keith want to put on sunglasses._

_He had the biggest urge to take Shiro’s face in his hand and taste the hard liquor on his breath. And then suddenly he was. He didn’t know how that happened - maybe it was the alcohol that made him - but Shiro’s lips were sweet against his, and he didn’t care about public decency anymore._

_He hummed slightly. “Vodka tastes better than soju.”_

_“You know soju practically tastes like vodka?” Shiro breath was warm against Keith’s cheeks._

_“You could have given me the vodka then.”_

_“You’re not even 21 yet. What kind of officer would I be if I got you black-out drunk?”_

_“A good one?”_

_“Hmm, maybe?”_

_“It’s not like I haven’t had any.” He rolled his eyes._

_“I promise I’ll give you all the time in the world to get the hardest liquor possible - when you’re legal.”_

_“Unbelievable. Matt, isn’t my boyfriend the worst?” Keith huffed half-heartedly - teasingly. His lips twitched into a smirk, and Shiro returned him a deviously raised eyebrow._

_He poured himself another shot. This second bottle was only half empty, but Keith was beginning to think he would need another to handle anymore of Shiro’s feelings blatantly unfolding before him._

_“Good thing I’m not your boyfriend, then,” Shiro whispered in his ear, and his hand was warm and present against Keith’s thigh. Keith definitely needed a third bottle._

_“You know what you haven’t tried?” his fiance tipped his face upwards, reaching for a fond memory. “I’m not sure how much you know about Asian food and drinks but Yakult and soju - oh the glory of my days in university.”_

_Matt raised another half a shot glass, “Fact!”_

_Keith tilted his head, “What?”_

_“It’s a probiotic drink.”_

_“Oh my god, you can’t be serious? I’m going to have to rethink this engagement,” he said, trying to be entirely serious, but failing completely when Shiro swung his left arm around his shoulder and grabbed Keith’s right hand with his own. The blood in his bloodstream seemed to heat and his grin was so wide with pure joy that he could cramp his facial muscles._

_“Hey, no backing out! You agreed to marrying this beautiful face, you gotta live the culture too.”_

_“I was skeptical too until I tried it,” Matt admitted with a droopiness to his eyes. “Seriously. That stuff is weirdly good.”_

_Keith pouted, “But what if I just want to get wasted?”_

_And then his lips were warm again, engulfed in Shiro’s intoxicating breath._

_“Drunk enough yet?” Shiro grinned widely at him._

_Keith laughed, completely blissful in this moment because he was there with Shiro and they’re talking about every mundane things in their life. Perhaps they were rushing it, jumping into a commitment neither knew with clarity. But he would regret that another day._

_For now, on their hands a matching pair of wedding rings, worn perhaps prematurely, and Keith didn’t care about anything but that moment._

 

 

 

Keith licked his lips, pondering over the many things that he could say that wouldn’t hurt either of them. But that felt impossible when recalling one of the happiest day in their time together seemed intrusive to their past selves.

The memories of themselves so content and so loving were reminders of what they once had. Talking about it again to a clueless Shiro was like stabbing himself with a thousand needles, but he wanted to - _needed_ to.

There was only so much Keith could hold in his heart when it’s so broken and torn, and he was _so_ tired of hiding his wounds.

He hoped Shiro would forgive him for burdening him with guilt and inhaled. “Before you left for Kerberos, you proposed to me.”

More than two years before the launch, Shiro chose Kerberos over Adam. A year after, Keith and Shiro found themselves wrapped in each other’s embrace and sharing a sort of intimacy that Keith had only dreamed to have.

Six months before Kerberos, someone had pissed Keith off so badly that it got him stupidly drunk at the shack in the desert. A bottle of spirits too many and he spilled every deep unknown doubts to Shiro.

He knew what they had between them was something as momentary as the wind that swept across the desert that night. And Kerberos felt like a goodbye: a year to get there, a year to get back and in and in it, a gaping hole where Shiro stood in his life.

Adam had been three years of Shiro’s life, and then he wasn’t within a day. Keith was only six months thus far, perhaps another six more. And then he would just be a backward glance into the vastness of space; a grain of sand caught in a great storm that was Shiro’s presence.

Shiro loved the stars more than anything in the world. [And Keith was just a boy from the desert](https://zuspacey.tumblr.com/post/179486203260).

Two months later, Shiro proposed.

The news were slow to sink in, and Shiro’s furrowed his brow, anguished by memories that he doesn’t have. He opened his mouth to speak, or at least tried to. What came out were half questions, gasps and heavy breaths he hadn’t realised he was holding. And finally, “Were you ever planning on telling me?”

Keith gave a pathetic shrug and couldn’t bring himself to meet Shiro’s eyes, “Eventually.”

“When?”

“When the time seemed right.” When he finally found the strength to face whatever reaction Shiro would have given him. Because despite their closeness now that already exceeded ones that would have been established between friends, there was no guarantee that Shiro would ever return Keith’s deeper feelings.

Shiro dragged his hands down his face, and Keith could distinctly pinpoint the moment when Shiro has finally lost his composure. It was when he couldn't bear to look back at Keith, his body completely rigid and his eyes furious and disbelieving.

“Excuse me.” He breathed and turned to leave.

“Takashi-” Keith called before he could stop himself. It didn’t matter, though. Shiro had left the room with too much haste to hear him, and every intentions of getting away. Keith couldn’t blame him.

The room, wide as it was, now felt suffocating. Keith was knew the tell-tale sting in his eyes and the long gulps of air that he was now taking. _God, he was a mess._

Coran found him pressing his palms into his eyes. The wedding band on his necklace hung close to his heart, warm just as their bodies, flushed against each other’s beneath the blankets at the wooden shack; like the silhouette left behind on the earth when a rocket launched to the stars.

 

 

&&&

 

 

Life went on for all of them, even if Keith was holding on to whatever sanity he had left. Suddenly Matt’s joke about having two functioning brain cells left became sadly relatable.

Sitting at the long dinner table, the taste of food goo was lost in Keith’s mouth. He had enough grey matter to tell himself to feed himself, and a bit more to absentmindedly noticed Hunk slightly anticipating gaze at him. Keith realised half way through his plate that Hunk must have been trying out a new recipe. He reminded himself to apologize later for his lackadaisical engagement at the table as of late.

Lance was apparently at his wits’ end in trying to access the gravity-defying pool. And Allura with her endless patience with him, explained its mechanism for the third time to him. Pidge snickered at him and Hunk was engaging himself with the mice.

And Shiro hadn’t joined them for a few days now.

The team was trying to keep themselves from asking about the elephant in the room out of respect for both Keith and Shiro. They expected the pair to get their shit together on their own, but they probably hadn’t anticipated how long it would take. They didn't have the heart to push it, either.

Coran was the only one who came closest to understanding what had happened through the Keith’s and Shiro’s forced interactions at debriefs. But that was probably because he had been somehow thrusted into the job of consoling Keith from his near-breakdown. And then he went on with his duties without a single question.

His false obliviousness was welcoming, compared to the sympathetic glance everyone else gave them. Keith suspected that was because Coran was the only one in the team who has lived passed his mid-life crisis and knew enough about relationships to be fazed by this tension. Either that or he was _actually_ oblivious, but Keith didn't mind.

Keith got himself into the habit of helping the man with chores around the castleship, if only to relieve his boredom in ways that didn’t require the use of the training room - because he knew for sure Shiro would be there hacking through the many simulations. And he wasn’t about to start another conversation that will worsen this awkwardness between them.

Instead, he was manually tending to the plants from the greenhouse, half-listening to the history lesson on the castleship that Coran was adamant on teaching. It was surprisingly enjoyable, and Keith hadn’t felt this detached from life for days.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you told me that you knew the engineers that designed the castleship,” he said as small tease, more than anything.

“Actually, I do! One of them was my wife, afterall. Small world, isn't it?” Coran chuckled.

Keith’s eyes widened so much that eyeballs almost fell from its sockets, “You have a wife?”

“Oh yes! And three children, no less. I was only somewhat younger than King Alfor, you know. My eldest was seven deca-phoebs younger than Allura,” he smiled fondly and snipped a leaf off a small plant. “Do I not look old enough to be a father?”

Sometimes Keith forgot that people had families waiting for them at home. Lance and Hunk had only expressed their homesickness so many times in his presence and Pidge had also missed her mum some terrible days. Shiro’s parents were across the globe, but they were there, even if he had fallen out of contact with them for a while.

“N-no! I just… I guess I’ve never thought about it.”

Really, Keith should have expected it when Coran clearly has too much patience with a group of troublesome young adults. But he had always blamed it on the man’s eccentric nature instead.

“I volunteered to follow his majesty in the castleship when Zarkon began to colonise many of our neighbouring planets. My family stayed behind on Altea.” There was a forlorn look in his eyes that Keith didn’t want to identify, so he looked back to the germinated plants he was transfering.

“Did they…” _perish_ _, along with Altea?_

“I don’t know, actually,” Coran shrugged. “Altea was destroyed after the Castle of Lions fell. There were escape pods, but it’s been ten thousand years, anyways. Alteans don’t live that long.”

“I’m sorry, Coran.”

“It’s alright. We lose people in wars,” he sniffled a bit with a grin that was far too bittersweet. “Though I don’t have to tell _you_ that.”

Keith had a tombstone and a dagger that made his existence a lot more confusing than it needed to be. He also had a year grieving for a death that didn’t hurt any less even after Shiro returned. Coran doesn’t have to tell him about it, he gave Coran a weak smile in return.

“Keith, I know that everyone is trying to lay off you and Shiro...” Coran was looking at him now, serious and sombre. “...but I think it’s time I tell you that you need to speak with each other.”

 _Where did that come from?_ Keith wondered and nodded. “I know. We will. It’s just… we have something that’s difficult to… address right now.”

“Whatever it is, I hope you’ll get through it soon. You don’t realise how much time you lose with your loved ones when you’re focused on fighting Zarkon.”

“Yeah.”

“Besides, aren’t you married? You should be making up for lost time with _other_ things, I should think,” Coran winked, and Keith felt his face ripening like a tomato.

“How do you-”

“Doesn’t take a genius to know a wedding ring when he sees one.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Also doesn’t take a genius to realise that there’s something between you two that transcends just a crush.”

This felt like relationship therapy. Keith could _not_ believe that he was taking relationship therapy from one of the most - if not _the_ most - dramatic and ridiculous person he has ever met. But hey, he’s got to give the man credits for getting through adulthood because apparently, _Keith wasn’t adulting very well._ So who was he to judge?

“He doesn't remember it, though,” Keith turned his face again, pressing gently against the soil to secure the plant in place. The sadness that had momentarily escaped him was creeping up again, “He remembers that we had something, but he doesn't remember that we were married.”

“And you’re afraid that he’ll reject it, and you.”

Keith winced slightly. _Ain’t that an ugly truth._

“I kept it from him because I feared that he would be overwhelmed by everything. And then, when he found out, he got mad. And we started avoiding each other because…” he breathed exasperatedly. “How exactly do you react to someone hid the fact that you were married to them? You’d be mad-”

“Understandable.”

“-of course! It will be a burden to him. Like an expectation for him, from me, to go back to the expected roles we used to have in each other’s lives.”

“And _do_ _you_ have those expectations?”

 _“_ I-” he faltered, and Coran raised an eyebrow and twirled his mustache at him. “I try not to. It’s not his fault that he forgot, and it’s not his obligation to return my feeling. I’m trying to give him time to adjust, and...” _I miss him. I miss what we had._

Keith pressed his lips together. “That’s exactly why I didn’t want to tell him - because I don’t… I just want him to be genuinely invested because he wants to take a step further between us. Not because of some certificate said so.”

“You want him to learn to love you again.” Coran said with a hint of sympathy that Keith could only nod at.

“I think he might be more afraid than burdened by you. And you _are_ still together. That means he holds your opinions to a greater degree than for others. That will count for something.

“He had lost two years of his life, and yet he remembers that he loves you. Maybe give him more credit. He could be completely terrified in letting you down yet at the same time, he could be entirely genuine with his affections for you.”

“That’s the issue, though, isn’t it. The problem isn’t just with him. The problem is also with me,” Keith chuckled defeatedly. “Things change in two years, Coran. I’m more hassle than he needs.”

And there it was: the confession. Perhaps with their new experience and the years to their life, they would know better now to trust the decisions made on a whim by their former selves. That what Keith felt was once reciprocated but not anymore, and it wasn’t Shiro’s obligation to do so anymore.

His father had likened people to malleable jigsaw pieces, and they slotted into each other’s lives as the pieces perfectly line up. There was a place for everyone in the puzzle, but some pieces won’t work with another. Some would connect but through another piece. Some changed shapes over the years.

Shiro had definitely changed. And Keith too. He saw himself becoming more distrustful, but he couldn’t bring himself to fixing it because he couldn’t bear to let anyone close again - lest they would carve themselves so deeply into his life that it became irreparable when they leave.

And now, he didn’t know if they could still fit next to each other as they did back then.

“Maybe give yourself more credit too, Keith. You’re more valued by everyone than you realise. And you won’t know how he feels until you reconcile,” Coran patted his shoulder encouragingly. The words lifted Keith’s spirit a bit, and his heart warmed.

He finally smiled a little, “Thanks Coran.”

It was when they have tucked away their equipment afterwards that Coran excitedly announced, “And now to the cryopreserving shelves!”

“The _what?”_

“It’s in the kitchen.” He tapped his chin with a finger thoughtfully. “I think I’ve just been inspired to try a new dish! ”

Keith laughed as the man raced ahead of him to the kitchen. Old as he was, Coran’s soul was young, and Keith admired this duality. And then the words registered: Coran; food; new recipe. Keith knew he wasn't about to at the receiving end of everyone's glare as they ingest another spoon of some traditional Altean delicacy.

“Wait. Coran! Coran!!!”

 

 

&&&

 

 

Keith thought he was seeing things lately. He was sure he hadn’t made himself any ‘coffee.’ Yet there it was: a mug on his station near the holographic interface: slightly warm, and a bit too sweet for his liking. No one had claimed it when he asked, so he could only accept that it would be a waste to pour the cup down the drain.

Mid-afternoon the next day, he found a glass of water and a painkillers next to the pile of Allura’s documents that was giving him a bad headache to read through. Allura walked in from her errand with her face glued to a tablet, and sat across the table from him to continue her work.

“Thanks,” he said, popping it into his mouth.

She raised her head up to look at him quizzically, “For what?”

“The meds?”

She held her raised eyebrows, “What medication?”

 _Okay, weird?_ Keith left it at that. It felt like there was someone in the castle was more perceptive to his needs, as of late. Might be Coran. Or it might be that the castleship was sentient, but Keith wasn’t about to divulge into that thought after the AI of King Alfor went rogue.

The days continued. Keith still hasn’t spoken to Shiro.

They approached another planet, except this one had liberated some of its population by itself, and Voltron was merely mental support by that point. Regardless, Allura suggested for them to stay at least a week to build some relationships that might be helpful in the future.

The section of the planet that they were on had a habitat that resembled the deciduous forests in early autumn back on Earth. In the morning, the leaves were painted gold and red and littered the grounds, whilst the weather was slightly chilly, but pleasant. At night, the wind rustled the leaves that seemed like nature’s own wind chimes, and the sky was clear with six moons in the sky. It hardly allowed for Keith to observe any stars, but he came out to enjoy the breeze, nonetheless.

Keith hadn’t realised how much he liked these forest. He grew up in the town near the Garrison, surrounded by sand and stone and heat. It wasn’t like the desert gave him much of these trees to appreciate (though Shiro had succulents that Keith had inherited when he left. They were on the veranda of the shack. He hoped they were at least somewhat alive from the occasional rain). And the autumnal weather quelled the anxious energy that has been coursing through him the entire day whilst they were helping with rebuilding in the city.  

Shiro found him on one of the castle’s balcony where he had almost drifted off, back against the balustrade, head rested on his one of his knees whilst his other leg stretched out.

“Hey.” Shiro waved. His lips slightly tugged upwards and he was wearing that goofy look again, like he was at awe of something Keith wasn’t paying attention to because he was half-asleep.

So Keith hummed in reply and tried to blink himself awake, looking at the forest below through the gaps between the balusters.

Shiro stood next to where Keith sat, looked down upon the scene and breathed it deep through his lungs. There was a nervous atmosphere that followed his (shaky) breath outwards.

“You okay?” Keith tilted his face upwards to meet Shiro’s gaze.

“It’s beautiful out here. Reminds me a lot of Japan.” Shiro sounded almost as homesick as Lance did, every once in a while. The melancholy was thick, almost choking him.

In another time, perhaps before this, had this conversation ever rose, Keith would have said _I’d like to see that with my own eyes, with you._ But now there were a sort of finality to his speech. “So this is what Japan would look like.”

Perhaps in that other time so long ago, Shiro would have said, _We’ll go one day._ Instead, he said, “In autumn, yeah.”

One of the rare things that they’ve never discussed between them were their homes. Keith’s was in the outskirts of a town in the U.S of A . Shiro’s was in one of Japan’s major cities. They seemed worldly apart, and neither ever really missed theirs when they were back in the Garrison. Perhaps that’s why this conversation was ending wonderfully quickly.

“You still haven’t answered my question.” He already has hindsight on what Shiro came out here for - it has also been three days since Coran told him to get his shit together. And maybe Keith will finally start the conversation this time. It was long overdue, anyways.

Shiro was silent for a minute, staring down at his arms resting on the marble slates before he admitted, “We need to talk.”

“We’re talking right now.”

“Uh-yeah, I mean…” Shiro stuttered, embarrassed. Keith knew he was making it difficult on purpose, but it was funny to see Shiro flustered and at a loss for words. Even his ears went red. Keith smirked, but finally relented.

“I’m sorry…” Keith said. “... for not telling you about… us.”

Shiro leaned heavier on the marble. “And I’m sorry, for responding the way I did.”

“You were hurt, and I kinda dumped it on you.”

“And so were you. Probably more so than me.”

“You don’t have to compare us and deny yourself the rights to be mad at me.” Keith could see the blame-game a mile away. Except, when it came to Shiro and himself, they always somehow manage to make themselves guilty instead of being the victim. _Stupidly altruistic_ , he laughed inwardly.

“I’m not, I promise,” Shiro chuckled at his antiques as if were typical of Keith to say such things. It wasn’t though, because Keith was less talkative than this on normal days. “I _was_ mad at you, but then I realised why you did it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Because when you told me, I didn’t know how I should be acting around you anymore.”

Hearing it from Shiro and not from his inner thoughts had cut him more than he expected. Keith felt like he should apologise again for making their lives harder than it already was, and potentially ruining what closeness they already had - which was more than he had ever outwardly asked for. He was more of an idiot than he likened himself to be.

He cringed, “Sorr-”

“No! You don’t have to apologise for that, Keith” Shiro looked pained and lost just as he was the first day when he had lost his memories. He slid down to the floor next to Keith, with just less than half a metre between their arms. Shiro’s left arm twitched to reach out to him, but seemingly thought against it. “I know how hard it was for you to finally open up to me about it. I just panicked, then.”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything, you know,” Keith said and plastered a smile onto his face that he hoped hadn’t looked too fake. Coran’s words was bouncing in his head. _Maybe give him more credit. He could be completely terrified in letting you down…_ It gave him hope, and he had tried to dampen it somewhat over the last few days - just in case. Shiro hadn’t sign up to be fucked over by the Galra, nor by Keith’s feelings. Keith couldn't force this even if he tried.

“If you don’t want to accept…” _our marriage._ “...this arrangement, then you don’t have to. The ring is just... me holding onto the past.”

“Do you still feel that way, though?” Shiro uttered. The endless black of his eyes pierced itself into Keith’s mind, searching for some sort of affirmation that Keith didn’t know.

“Feel what way?”

“Do you still… feel that strongly… about me? Do you still love me enough that you would still call me your husband?”

The question had an answer that Keith had always known, but he wasn’t sure if he should be making another confession that would burden Shiro with so much more self-expected requirements that came with the role of being ‘husbands.’

Sometimes, despite Shiro’s determination to go to Kerberos against Adam’s wishes, despite Iverson’s reluctance in letting him pilot and despite all the instances where Shiro stood up for himself, he could bend to the desires of others when his guilt told him otherwise. And Keith couldn't live with a pity party of a marriage, so he turned the question back at Shiro.

“Do you?”

“I’d like to think that my past self isn’t as stupid as I remember,” Shiro chuckled. “And I think if there was one thing that I ever knew with certainty back then, it was that I knew a man to keep when I saw one.”

Keith let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding, and gaped. Had he really just heard that? He really had just heard Shiro say that. He really did. That was as good of a confirmation as any, _right_?

“Do you really mean that?” he was trying to contain his grin, but that hardly seemed possible when Shiro was looking at him with awe like he used to, and his face… happy. Keith could describe it as _happy_ \- happier than he had seen for a very long time.

Shiro beamed, “I mean, my husband is a bit of a rule-breaker, and a bit crazier than I expected. But I know why I decided to put a ring on him.

“Though... if only he’ll have me, again,” he sighed dramatically. “I’ve been a less than stellar husband, afterall. Between disappearing for a year without contact and forgetting their marriage altogether, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had filed papers for an impending divorce by now. ”

Keith was confused. He really was because Shiro was so forgiving that it sometimes gave him a proverbial whiplash at just how quickly Shiro could let things go. And Shiro had just accepted Keith’s outstretched hopes that they could regain what they’ve lost in their years apart: each other, but whole and entirely, this time.

Keith was crying, of relief and joy overflowing within him, “Takashi, you absolute moron.”

He reached up to wipe the tears from his eyes and had his hand caught in Shiro’s - who was staring at him as if he was gazing into space. Shiro pulled him into into his chest, and Keith buried his face into Shiro’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to realise it.” Shiro squeezed his shoulder - the weight welcoming and comforting.

Shiro was there, just as he was years ago, with the addition of the white hair, the prosthetic, the slight creases on his forehead and the tired looks that happened more frequently than not. He was worn out, but he was real and he was there, with Keith.

It almost seemed that Shiro’s subconsciousness had remembered him; that despite having lost every bit of one of the most beautiful moments in their lives, Shiro hasn’t broken his promise. And Keith felt like crying even more because he was just so glad.

A sniffing noise made Keith pull away from Shiro and he was graced with red eyes that were slightly puffy and wet, just as Keith’s undoubtedly were. Shiro was no less susceptible to looking like an absolute mess, _as cool as he was_.

“Are you crying as well?” Keith chuckled breathlessly.

“It’s a very emotional moment!” Shiro huffed indignantly, prompting him to laugh again.

His head dropped onto Shiro’s chest and his arm snaked its way to wrap around Shiro’s middle. In turn, Shiro nuzzled his face into the dark mop of hair, and swung his arm around to hang on Keith’s shoulder. The fears from before has evaporated into the air, leaving Keith with a constant optimism that he rarely felt.

It was nice, despite the temperature that had dropped lower than when Keith had just arrived. The single jacket that he haphazardly draped over himself with the single t-shirt definitely wasn’t enough to withstand the chill. But the heat in his chest was still blooming, and Shiro’s body pressed next to him made him feel whole, safe and warmer than any clothing could ever provide. And he could feel the thrum of Shiro’s heart beating rapidly, still.

“Penny for your thought?” Shiro was playing with the hair on the side of his ear, brushing them through his fingers to detangle them. Keith almost _purred_.

“Do you _actually_ have a penny for my thoughts?” he challenged, sitting up straight and looking up _entirely_ serious.

Shiro shook his head. “Oh my god, Keith...”

“Well, I’ll take a GAC if you have one. I do need to get a new pair of shoes.”

“A GAC isn’t going to get you a pair of shoes!”

“But it _will_ give you my thoughts,” he gave a sly smile, and Shiro knocked his head back in defeat. Keith cracked up again and settled himself back onto Shiro’s chest.

“You’re not gonna make this easy for me, huh?” Shiro mumbled with a teasing tone that was _borderline_ seductive.

It made Keith shiver slightly, and he grinned, “Not on your life, Takashi! You have a lot to make up for.”

“Come on, please!” Shiro was pouting now. Keith’s brain is going to short-wire because. Shiro. Pouting. Has been classified as too much. Too! Much! Damn whatever discipline Keith has, he couldn’t hold himself against this.

“Are you sure you’re ready though? Because last time I told you something, you walked out on me.” Keith raised a teasing eyebrow. It was mean, and he hadn’t realised he was holding a grudge until the words slipped from his mouth.

He saw Shiro’s eyes twitched slightly. “I promise I won’t this time.”

Keith softened at his remorse and almost apologised again. But then he held his tongue, because then they’d be here apologising the entire night, and for once, Keith wanted to take the apology instead of return it. So he chewed over his next words. “I was thinking about… when you proposed the first time.”

He searched, again, for any signs of Shiro remembering, but the man’s face was looking at him only expectantly for him to continue. “You still don’t remember, do you?”

“No,” Shiro said, and Keith was disappointed, despite expecting it.

“But tell me. I want to remember.”

His heart might have leaped a bit, touched by the unwavering determination from Shiro. He really was going to do this: divulge into their past, their most treasured moments, and retell it to Shiro, who wanted and longed for those memories as much as Keith did.

Before, it felt as if it would be intrusive to do this. And in some ways, it still did, to Keith. But this was their starting point, he realised, for something that could be rebuilt. Everything started from nothing, until it wasn't _just_ nothing.

He took a long breath. “It was your day off. We were going to see Matt later that night at that bar we always went to. Me and you were off in the desert on our hoverbikes again - I might have ditched my last class of the day to meet you.”

Shiro chuckled.

“And you with your romantic ass did a sunset proposal right there in the desert. Except, you tripped when you were trying to _subtly_ go down to your knees, and your entire front was covered in dust!”

Keith laughed as Shiro covered his eyes with his hand, groaning, “God, I am a disaster.”

“And then you pulled my hand into yours,” Keith took Shiro’s left in his right and brought it to his chest.

“And you said you love me,...”

 

 _I want you to know that I love you,_ Shiro’s words replayed in his mind.

 

“... and I will always have your love.”

 

_And you’ve always have my body, soul and every last bit of my love._

 

“And then you promised me that you’ll always be with me…”

 

_Regardless of wherever we may be, I promise I’ll be with you in spirit._

 

“...and no matter what happens, you’ll come back to me…”

 

_And I’ll return to you, no matter what, so long as we’re alive,..._

 

“...again…”

 

_and again..._

 

“...until I give up on you.”

 

_...until the day you’re tired of me._

 

 

 

 

 

_Will you marry me?_

 

 

 

 

 

“And you said yes,” Shiro whispered. Keith reached his left hand up to stroke his thumb across Shiro’s cheeks, feeling the slightly sticky remnants of the dried up tears. Shiro leaned slightly into his touch, mouth still tilted upwards and eyes shining - _just like the stars._

 _This_ , he had missed this. This familiarity that was their life back then, where it was just them and conversations about anything and everything, surrounded by the vast silence of nature. Every touch was a mutual trust that spoke volumes, every kiss was unwavering love, every gaze was adoration, and every moment together were memorable.

Keith leaned upwards, his hand pulled Shiro’s face downwards, and their lips met in a kiss so soft, but sincere and euphoric. He could get used to this again, he thought to himself.

With their faces a hair’s width apart, he echoed, “And I said yes.”

 

 

&&&

 

 

Keith felt like shit. Nevermind that - he was _actual_ shit because how else would anyone describe his appearance in that moment, still in his pyjamas, hair mussed and eyebags prominent. And he really could care less because _he felt like shit._ And all because he tried to cram his workload on the wrong night for a reason that no one needed to know about.

Shiro even tried to stay up to help him, but the poor guy was functioning as well as anyone at the ungodly hours of night. So Keith had to put him into bed, whilst Keith, himself, sat on the floor at the bedside with the bluest possible lighting on his tablet.

It took more effort than expected to bring himself breakfast after sleeping in that day, but he managed to drag himself and his tablet to the kitchen. He was greeted by Shiro and Lance eating near the large bench top at the centre of the room, and Hunk aggressively mixing something on the adjacent.

He waved slightly at everyone’s greeting, then plopped down onto the chair next to Shiro and dropped his forehead onto the table miserably. Shiro patted his back, sympathetic and amused.

“Thanks for putting me into bed,” Keith mumbled. He remembered falling sleep butt-numb on the floor roughly three hours after Shiro did. Yet he woke up with a slightly stiff neck, and tucked under the blankets with a pillow under his head that all smelled like Shiro. It lulled him back to sleep for some unknown amount of time.

“You’re welcome.” Shiro smiled warmly. “How’s your neck?”

Keith lifted his head, swung it from side to side, then rolled it all the way around to hear the crack of his joints and winced slightly. He placed his cheek back into contact with the cold marble.

“You really should have left those last five pages ‘til this morning,” Shiro chuckled. His hand combed through Keith’s mess of a hair at the back of his head, carefully untangling the many clumps. The gentle movement on his scalp was soothing, and it was addicting, just as the mirth on Shiro’s face - the pinch in his eyes, the tilt of his head and his lips pressing into sort of playfulness that was really testing Keith’s ability to hold himself creating a ridiculous amount of PDA.

“It’s too early for you to be right, Shiro,” Keith whined.  “I need caffeine.”

“I left a cup at the machine for you.”

Like a zombie, Keith dragged himself to retrieve the mug of steaming ‘coffee’ whilst Lance wrinkled his nose and pointed accusingly at the drink with his spoon, “I still don’t know how you drink that, because that is _nasty_.”

‘Coffee’ was term used lightly because it was a caffeinated drink that resembled coffee but gave a strange aftertaste of dirt. But Keith wasn’t about to complain - they don’t have enough of it back at the Garrison because the closest cafe was a half an hour away on hoverbike, and the place was ridden with coffee addicts. You either got in line early for the good lattes, or somehow bribe the staff into getting you a cup from the private coffee maker in the staff room. And Shiro wasn’t always around to offer his coffee to Keith (though he did make great efforts)

He shrugged, muttered an appreciation and took a sip before he was also cringing. Lance was snorting at him. Shiro was more concerned. “Too bitter?”

He shook his head. “Too sweet.”

“Oh...” Shiro seemed slightly taken aback. “Sorry. I thought I remembered how much sugar you took in your coffee.”

“No, you got it right.” Keith took another sip to hide the natural grin that was coming to his face because _maybe_ he might be a bit ( _okay a lot_ ) happy that Shiro remembered that. “My preference has changed a bit since then though.”

(Because Keith simply couldn’t bother himself to buy sugar for the coffee that he had back at the shack.)

Things have settled over quickly after that night on the balcony. They were both reacquainting themselves with each other, and the dynamic they now have. Everything was the same, except not really.

Keith woke up with Shiro next to him on more days. They trained together more often than not, but when Keith did decide to train later than usual, Shiro would leave behind some water packets for him. When both were close to dying after a meeting, Keith would automatically drag Shiro around the castle, sometimes to the greenhouse, sometimes to the training room, sometimes to the pool, just anywhere to relax.

And without fail, they would be with beside each other for hours after dinner, sometimes for actual strategy discussions, sometimes to talk, sometimes in a comfortable silence as they both did their own thing next to one another. It was all so surprisingly domestic that Keith hadn’t anticipated it.

Then, his eyes widened at a realisation. “Wait... so _you_ were the one leaving coffee on my station.”

“Awww,” Hunk cooed, and Shiro’s face was turning slightly pink. “That’s sweet.”

“You mean ‘too sweet’.” Lance raised his glass of water to the couple, who gave him a deadpanned look. He sighed, “That joke went over your heads, didn’t it?"

The stare continued, and Pidge made her appearance, announced by the _swoosh_ of the door. She scanned the room confusedly, “Hey guys! What’s up?”

Lance quietly picked up a spoon of goo and shoved it in his mouth, almost scowling. Apparently, he had determinedly finished his number for the day.

Pidge sat across from them, curiously looking over to Hunk who was showing her the strange goop in the bowl that glowed - Keith almost jokingly asked if it were radioactive, but then he remembered that radioactive things don’t actually glow, and making _that_ joke with the likes of Pidge and Hunk the nerdy dynamic duo? Maybe not this time.

With a long breath, he turned to his tablet, ready to offer his soul to the devil again just to get pass that last page before feeling a nudge against his side, “Hmm?”

“You should eat.” Shiro jerked his head towards Keith’s tablet. He should, but Keith’s stomach rolled over when he looked over to Shiro’s plate. Food goo might look like porridge, but it was never going to be porridge and even Hunk couldn’t argue otherwise.

“I will,” he said, if a bit hesitant, and was met with Shiro’s disbelieving smirk.

“What? I will! After this.” He pointed to his tablet. Somehow that ensued further skepticism from Shiro. Then, Keith rolled his eyes and did the unthinkable - a move made with audacity induced by sleep deprivation - that had Shiro and Pidge staring at him with confusion, and Lance frowning deeply: he took Shiro’s spoon, ate goo from his plate, asked, “Happy?” with a mouth still full of food and proceeded to choke and cough violently.

Thinking back, maybe it wasn’t the most hygienic or polite at the table. But he was making a point, and Keith wasn’t about to care about anything. Shiro patted his back to help, but he was clearly too amused at Keith’s attempt to function as a human being. Keith was obviously adulting so well - his parents should be proud.

Pidge grinned mischievously at him. “I guess being married doesn’t change how hopeless you are, Keith.”

Keith glared at her beneath his bangs because _of course_ she would rub that in his face because it had always like that between them since the minute Keith and Shiro had their very first dinner at the Holts’ residence, officially as spouses. It was all good-natured though, and he smirked, “Like being smart doesn’t make you any taller, _Katie_.”

“Oh, you did not!!!”

Keith shrugged and thanked Shiro for the napkin he provided before he was acutely aware of Lance and Hunk gaping at them.

“Wait,” Hunk started. “Did you just say _married_?”

 _Shit._ Keith’s eyes were probably comically wide and he almost choked again. He really didn’t want to explain this.

“Uh… no. She said...uh…” What’s even rhymes with _married_ and makes sense in this situation? _Carried?_

“She said _married_! I heard it!” Lance was hysteric as if he couldn’t believe even his own ears yet. “Oh my god! To who though? Where’s the ring?”

“Is that even important anymore?!” Hunk pushed his mixing bowl to the side. “We’re in space, and they’re probably back on Earth.”

“Holy shit, I can’t believe you managed to get someone to agree to marry you!!! Keith, my dude, who is it?”

“And… wait a minute, last I checked, you’re still with...” he pointed between Keith and Shiro, and immediately shut up. Keith can feel the gears turning in his heard to configure this strange situation.

Pidge looked entirely too amused and Keith had half a mind to glare at her. She grinned guiltily, and he might have believed her if it weren’t for Lance attacking him with his enthusiasm. He’ll deal with Pidge later.

“Seriously, Keith, please share. We’re your _friends.”_ Lance drag looked like he was ready to pounce on Keith and rip him apart just for that information. “Was it James?”

“Who?” Shiro perked up and Keith wondered how hard he would have to slam his head on the table to be excused from everything for the next month or so. Shiro had been silent thus far, completely happy to sit back and let things blow over. And now, at the mention of a random cadet back at the Garrison, he decides to join in?

Keith glanced over; Shiro looked perplexed. Keith squinted, and there was a slightly annoyed twitch at the edge of Shiro’s mouth.

 _Huh._ Interesting.

“James Griffin. You know? _Yay_ high,…” Lance demonstrated with his hand. “...brown hair, second best in the Fighter pilot class after Keith? Also went out with him in second year?”

“They broke up, though.” Pidge reminded.

“Pfft, right,” Lance snorted. “Have you seen them interact? Whenever they walk into a room together, you can sense the sexual tension from a mile away. Even after their breakup, there was still a rumour going on about them still being into each other.”

“I’m right here, you know?” Keith groaned.

“Am I supposed to be worried about this Griffin guy?” Shiro had the audacity to feign distress - as if  he didn’t known that Keith had spent a year by himself in the desert grieving, that he would have followed Shiro to space and the edge of the universe if Shiro had only asked, and save him a thousand times over - as many as it takes - until they would be back in each other’s arms again.

Keith gave him a deadpanned gaze and nodded too readily to look genuine, “Oh yeah you should totally be intimidated by him.”

“Really? Even all the way in space?”

“Yup! Even all the way in space, he still has my heart,” he frowned sympathetically at his husband. “I’m sorry, Shiro. I guess our love ends here.”

“Oh whatever shall I do?” Shiro placed the back of his wrist on his forehead as if he was a young Victorian woman about to collapse. “That James has bewitched him!”

“Shall we embark on a journey to find Griffin and take back Keith’s heart?” Pidge raised her arm high and puffed her chest. Knight in shining armour, she was.

“Oh dear heart!” Shiro took Keith’s hands in his and got to his knees. “I shall save you from that monster. And then we shall be together again!”

It took the three of them two seconds of trying to hold their composure before they were _howling_.

Lance cringed. Hunk cringed. Under normal circumstances, if he weren’t in on the joke, Keith probably would have cringed too. But now he was laughing so hard his stomach hurt.

“Okay,” Lance said. “I guess not James Griffin, then.”

“No.” Shiro shook his head, still reeling after his laugh and sat back onto his seat. “ _Definitely_ not James Griffin.”

Lance turned over to his neighbour. “Pidge, you sound like you know too much.”

“I do know too much! Are you insinuating that I haven’t saved your asses too many times to count?” Pidge wiped a hand under her eyes, trying not to hit her glasses. “Maybe you should ask Keith, again. Hey Keith? Who did you marry?”

“Matt Holt,” he responded.

And the three erupted again. Pidge was practically dying. “Matt’s going to have an aneurysm when he hears about this!”

And by the end of the day, Lance still hasn’t noticed Keith’s and Shiro’s fingers laced tightly above the bench top, and left the room without learning anything new.

 

  
&&&

 

 

“You think we were a bit mean to not tell him?” Keith laid back onto the bed, arms and legs spread out and taking up most of the space on the bed save a small spot. He patted at it, and Shiro sat down, leaning back on his hands.

“I’m sure he’ll figure out eventually.”

He hummed in agreement, “By the way, I can’t believe you were jealous of James for _-oof_!”

Shiro decided that second to fall back directly onto Keith’s stomach and draped himself across Keith’s middle, all while smiling too widely to be innocent. Keith’s breath was punched out of him from the impact.

He pouted. “You did that on purpose.”

“Did I?” Shiro smirked challengingly.

“I’d never thought I’d see the day I would see captain Takashi Shirogane afraid of being called out for his possessive streak.”

“I’m not afraid of being called out. I’m just afraid of you calling me out.”

“Me?!” Keith cried. “What did I do?”

Shiro moved off him to lie properly on the bed as Keith scooted himself further inwards to make room. “Nothing major, I suppose. You only took my heart.”

This close to and face turned towards each other, he was graced with the minute details on Shiro’s face: the scar across the bridge of his nose, the very slight crease on his forehead and around his mouth, and  dryness of his lips. Keith had a sudden urge to claim those lips so and perhaps

He reached out to take Shiro’s left hand in his, holding it up above them and memorising its weight. “Do you know what kisses on the palm means?”

His hand traced the creases on Shiro’s hand where a scar ran across the middle of his palm, and Keith could only wonder what could have made a cut. His hand was callused near the base of his fingers, and the skin was rough from the trials that he faced. Keith trailed his thumb up the ring finger - empty, not a small callus.

This was something they’ve ever had between them. Back then, it felt they were running on borrowed time. Every moment together, every act of affection were better declared clearly than to be interpreted later in the silence of their own heads, late at night.

Keith pulled the hand towards his lips, and pressed the palm to his lips with closed eyes. He heard Shiro suck in a surprised breath as he dragged his mouth up, leaving behind a slightly damp trail running up the ring finger that passed between Keith’s tongue.

_[My heart is in your hand.](http://iruutciv.tumblr.com/post/162492376566/a-very-short-thing-because-i-have-a-thing-for-palm) _

It was a vulnerable confession of the love he so rarely ever said. And it was Shiro’s to take and keep.

When he blinked open his eyes, Shiro’s were boring back. There was certain attractiveness in the the way that he seemed so breathless in front of Keith. Shiro’s lips parted slightly, heavy with intentions that riled up Keith’s anticipation.

Shiro’s hand and eyes traced the sharp edge of Keith’s jaw from his chin to his ear, down the lines of his neck, slow, sensual, and sparking every nerves on the skin under his fingertips. He brushed back the few strands of hair that were in his path, and reached the chain that lied haphazardly underneath Keith’s shirt.

He hesitated, looking back to Keith for permission. Keith nodded.

Rubbing the ring in his finger, Shiro looked as if he were cradling some distant memory about it in his mind - one that made his expression turn bittersweet. Keith took his hand again. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” Shiro denied with a slight panic.

“You’re getting creases.” Keith smoothed his thumb over the area between Shiro’s eyebrows. “It’s _not_ nothing.”

Shiro made a low amused rumble at the back of his throat. “Am I that easy to read?”

“No, I just know you, Takashi.” He let Shiro fixate on the ring and contemplate in silence.

“Are you ever upset that I lost the ring?”

He raised an eyebrow. “No. It’s not like you intentionally threw it away, right?”

“Of course not.” There was an underlying despondency that Keith couldn’t quite point to what, yet. “I just… sometimes wondered what became of it after I was… captured.”

There was a longing in Shiro’s voice that made Keith ache to hold him until he could sleep through the entire war. Because Shiro didn’t deserve anything that had fallen into his lap. He didn’t deserve to be blamed for the failure of the Kerberos mission, he didn’t deserve the horrors that he was put through, and he didn’t have to bear the entire galaxy upon his shoulders. And he deserved comfort, peace and love, more than anything.

Keith unclasped the chain from his neck and removed the keys, leaving the ring. Shiro stared confusedly. “What are you-”

Keith pulled the chain around his neck. But before he could close it, Shiro held firmly on his wrist to stop him. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I want to,” he spoke confidently and connected the ends of the chain. Keith twirled the ring in his fingers. “At least let me be with you in this way.” _At least let me comfort you wherever you are._

He glanced up where Shiro’s smile was wavering in his attempt to hold his composure.

“Thank you, Keith,” Shiro whispered, almost seeming to be choking on his words. He tilted Keith’s chin up for a kiss so tender that it made his heart pound rapidly with unadulterated happiness. He pulled in closer, deepening the kiss enough for heat to spread across his face and every inch of his body where they touched. And they succumbed to the their gravitation towards one another.

Their bodies effortlessly slotted together between throes of breath against their necks and backs tinted blue from the faint lighting that lined the walls. It felt like fate that a mutual understanding between two people so vastly different became an enduring love that led them to this. In their shared space was a sense of belonging that seemed as natural as grains of sand in the desert.

Everything was mix of sensations that could only be likened to the glorious explosion of a star, violently ripping across space in waves of blinding light and heat. In the aftermath was a wash of euphoria that wrapped itself around them and blurred the world around. The only thing Keith registered was the body next to him that assured him everything was real, and _he_ was there, and they were together.

Keith smiled in his sleep with Shiro nuzzling into his neck, and the taste of home lingered on his tongue until the morning.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Did i mention that i have a hand kink? I love hands, it's just that beautiful. 
> 
> Also Coran is an underrated character that could have been the dad of the entire team but they kinda shoved all the responsibilities on Shiro. I mean Shiro was like 10 years older than Pidge (the youngest) and fyi i would still consider Shiro a brother in that case, and not like... space uncle. Im living for Coran being actually more empathetic and emotional than we see on the show.
> 
> I headcanon that Shiro knows all about those Asian drunken deeds (you can't tell me he's Asian and 25 and not know Yakult mixed soju.) *whispers* You can also try yakult with vodka it's basically the same except vodka hits you hard so remember to not drink yourself to oblivion kids. Everything comes in moderation. Also apparently Singapore has yoghurt flavoured Soju and theyre living in 3019 whilst im here mixing it the old fashion way... My parents would not be proud either ways but regardless-
> 
> Go show these artists some love for inspiring me!!!  
> <https://zuspacey.tumblr.com/post/179486203260>  
> <http://iruutciv.tumblr.com/post/162492376566/a-very-short-thing-because-i-have-a-thing-for-palm>  
> (yeah i might have stolen something from the yoi fandom, oops!) 
> 
> Please leave kudos and comments (especially comments please, because this fic is my new source of anxiety and i kinda wanna hear feedback? if that's alright? I rambled so much in this fic, please help.)
> 
> Come scream at me on [Tumblr](https://meapistrash.tumblr.com/)!


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